Bloodlust (15 page)

She shoved it into his hands and started back the way they had come. Despite the rather large corridor, she felt oppressed, as if the rock closed in on her. Her chest grew tight. Closing her eyes did not help, although touching the rock as she pressed forward did, albeit only a tad.

"Kennan told me another way out. We should be able to avoid the dragon."

"Still helping me." Ivy swallowed hard. With every pound of her beating heart, she feared for her people. She didn't want a new race to rise out of her people's ashes.

And yet, were her people worth saving?

Of course they were. Hadn't she argued that same point of contention with Lukor? The sins of one should not be held against the entire race.

But when the entire race all partook in that same sin...

Was
giving into the Bloodlust a sin? Why else did they have that ability if not to utilize it? And those children. They, in and of themselves, were more than enough reason to fight for her race's chance of survival.

"We can part ways after we see the sun once more." Lukor headed down a different passage.

For a moment, all Ivy wanted to do was stay here, lost in the depths of the Rock, to avoid the responsibility suffocating her. But she had never been a coward and would not start now. With her head high, she marched after him. She had no plan yet, but that would not long be the case.

A lighter step. The weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders. With the banding of the other races, the barbarians would assuredly fall. Lukor could not wait to swing his axe into the closest one.

Although one walked not two feet away from him at this very moment.

Had she not asked him why he did not strike her down and send her severed head to her father? Certainly that act would initiate war with the goliaths. The need to incite his people to the cause would be immaterial against the might of the barbarian horde. Had some of the messages from the trolls reached the other races already? Perhaps the other goliaths already marched toward Barbadia.

His legs churned faster, and Ivy matched his swift pace. He didn't dare tell her what Kennan had shared: that his plants had told him change was coming. How the man connected to the plants and spoke to them, Lukor didn't know, but Lukor himself, and all the goliaths, were tightly bonded to plant life too. Some of the reason why he and the human had become friends in the first place. And the man had predicted far too many things for Lukor to not have full faith in him. Who knew — perhaps he kept the dragon alive for a reason. Mayhap even to keep others away so he could tend to his garden. Those plants grew nowhere else in the world. Somehow, they didn't need sunlight and required precious little water. As resourceful as their guardian.

"How did you meet him?" Ivy asked.

Lukor did not bother to slow down as he called over his shoulder, "I was out hunting one day and nearly killed him. He carried a goliath child. I had thought he was a thief. Turns out, he'd found an abandoned goliath child and was trying to find his mother. To repay his kindness, I promised to grant him one favor and so guided him to the Rock."

"Why did he want to come here?"

"To be safe." He didn't need to explain why Kennan needed protection. Any difference from the norm typically resulted in death. Curiosity did not bode well in this cruel world. If another human hadn't killed him, someone else would have.

"Did the plants lead him to the babe?"

"I never did ask, but I would not doubt it."

They had only a few more feet to go when she spoke again. "The child. Was he reunited with his mother?"

Lukor halted and faced her. Perhaps she would understand. No one save for him knew what transpired that night.

He had found the mother. She spat in the child's face. Didn't want anything to do with the baby. Had left the child to die. Lukor lost it. To punish her, he had killed her. Saved a life, stole a life.

But he couldn't bring himself to vocalize all this.

Perhaps he didn't need to as Ivy stepped forward and cupped his cheek. Then she slowly, deliberately, wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. He stood there, stiff, unmoving, arms dangling by his sides. When she made no move to step away, he returned her embrace and bent his knees so he could rest his head on top of hers. Her hair brushed against his cheek, feathery soft. There were two sides to her — all female and soft, elegant and regal, and yet hard and muscular, brutish and vicious. Which side did she truly resonate with?

The barbarian-princess raised her head and stared up at him. Long lashes cast shadows beneath her eyes. "Sometimes death is a release."

Had she misunderstood his facial expression? "I killed the mother, not the babe." He resisted her hold, but her arms tightened around him and he stopped struggling although he could have unbound himself.

"You saved the child from living with a mother who hated him."

Such bitterness filled her voice. Perhaps she hadn't had a peaceful, temporary reunion with her dead mother.

She did understand. A barbarian did not blame him for having killed another goliath. Not just any goliath, but a weaponless goliatha. The only goliath he had ever slayed. But what did that matter? Barbarians cared little for who lived or died.

For a moment, he though water covered her eyes as she stepped back. "Let us continue on."

Back to being a demanding barbarian-princess again, expecting him to heed her every demand.

"So you can rush to your war."

She leaned toward him, her crossed arms touching his chest. "Rush to live another day. Rush to die in battle. What does it all matter? What lives do we live that there is so much bloodshed? 'Tis a wonder that any grass grows or that it is not crimson in color for all the blood that waters it."

"Barbarians—"

"Are not the only ones responsible for death."

"Let us hurry and part ways." Lukor grasped her upper arm and propelled her forward. She did not put up a fight.

They neared the exit, the opening to the world beyond the Rocks within sight, when its light blotted out. Sharp teeth appeared and then a split tongue. The scent of impending fire had Lukor whirling the barbarian-princess about. They raced ahead of the fireball and rounded a corner. The flames blew past them.

"The dragon found us." Ivy did not breathe heavily despite their run, and she peeked around the corner. Another blast bellowed forth. She pulled back in time. "Now where do we go?"

If she hadn't held him, if they hadn't blabbed on for so long, they would have left the confines of the Rock already.

And been much easier pickings for the dragon.

"Let's sit here and wait," he suggested. "Eventually the dragon will leave."

"While we count the cracks in the walls, the trolls will convince the other races to annihilate the barbarians. I think not." Ivy yanked her silverbow and quiver back from him. He'd forgotten he still had them.

"Rush to die in battle." His tone was flat.

"You would rather collect dust?"

There was a wild glint in her eyes, and his grin matched hers. "Just be careful. You have enough scars as it is. You don't need a burnt patch as well." His finger traced a small scar in the shape of an "x" near her left eye.

"Your concern is unnecessary." She eyed her — his — shield and held up her silverbow.

Lukor nodded. As one, they moved back toward the opening, Lukor holding the shield in front of her body, standing behind her as she fired a shot.

A fireball hurled straight toward them, but Lukor held position, waiting for Ivy to duck to safety first. Only she didn't move, instead shooting several more times. Finally, he yanked on her arm. They tumbled to the ground, the fireball zooming over their heads, the tip of the spike on the shield tarnished with soot.

Another blast of fire barreled through. A huge cracking sound echoed throughout the Rock, and the dragon flew into the passageways, its wings folded upon themselves several times so as not to brush against the walls.

Lukor scrambled to his feet and tore after Ivy. After venturing down several turns and choosing forks at random, he glanced over his shoulder to see the dragon still on their tail, its mouth opening.

An arrow whizzed by his head, almost clipping his ear. It pierced the dragon's tongue, and the ball forming in the back of its throat died out, smoke exiting its nostrils and ears, filling the cave until Lukor couldn't see. The sound of Ivy's coughing filled his ears, and he reached toward her, grabbing her back — no lower. Too soft. Somehow, they found each other's hands and continued racing along. His lungs burned from holding his breath, and he had to inhale. The fumes seared his insides, and he choked. His eyes burned, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Finally, up ahead, another fork, both passageways hopefully too small for the dragon to squeeze inside. Although it had bashed through the small opening leading out of the Rocks of Breakingham, and it certainly contained the necessary strength to widen these narrow passages as well.

Ivy yanked on his arm, pulling him toward the left passageway. It slanted upward, away from the smoke, and his lungs welcomed the clearer, although stagnant, air. The rumbling of the dragon quieted. Lukor crawled back down, almost slithering against the floor, to spy on the dragon.

When it had been flying in the huge cavern, Lukor hadn't noticed a long scar that stretched nearly from its left eye down it back, toward its tail. No wonder it did not talk to them and attacked so viciously.

The headless neck was wrapped around the other neck, and its head lifted toward him.

Lukor dashed back to Ivy. "It's still coming."

She nodded. "She won't rest until she kills us. Or us her."

"You've spoken to it?"

"Yes."

Strange. He had felt no intrusion in his mind, had not heard the mindspeak of the dragon.

"Jealous?" Ivy quipped a laugh before her smile faded, and her arched brows formed a "v" above her nose. "The..." Her fingers flittered about, swift and sure, as if they had wings.

Ah, the destroyer dreads. "I do know where they are." Lukor swallowed hard, trying to keep his thoughts within his mind. It would not do for the dragon to snatch a leaked thought and realize their plan before it had been hatched.

Involving the destroyer dreads was beyond dangerous. Once stirred, they would not relent. 'Twas possible they would doom Kennan as well. Hopefully his plants had already warned him. They possessed strange intelligence. Some studied the stars to see if they predicted the future. Kennan did the same with his flowers.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

The walls shook as the dragon forced her way toward them.

She nodded. "Consider it a means to earn my trust."

Only a barbarian would choose something so reckless and dangerous as a means to earn trust.

Lukor raced forward, holding her hand, not caring that she stumbled and almost fell as he jolted to a halt. This part of the Rocks he had never explored, and he had to find familiar ground. Ducking down another passageway, they rushed on. His heartbeat sounded so loud in his ears it almost drowned out their pounding footsteps and the ever-present roar of the dragon still hot on their trail.

But this way led to another fork, this one with four branches, and not the massive cavern Lukor had hoped to see. Each of the four tunnels stretched large and tall and would give the dragon plenty of room to give chase.

Choosing the rightmost one, Lukor barreled down it and handed Ivy back the shield. If the dragon fired another blast — which she hadn't since Ivy's arrow pierced her tongue — they needed what little protection the shield might afford them.

They rounded the corner and halted.

A dead end.

Which would be their tombs if they did not think fast.

Lukor glanced behind them. More smoke rolled through the tunnel toward them. The dragon must not be far off.

Ivy gripped his chin, her fingers carving into him like daggers. "Help me." She knelt on the floor, digging at an already worn patch of rock and dirt on the floor.

Lukor grabbed the discarded shield. Using it as a tool, he shoveled the stone until the loose particles had been moved. He shoved the shield toward her and removed a hammer from his weapon belt. A few good whacks and the floor cracked. Another and the floor burst open beneath their feet.